


like magnets we attract

by skylinehorizon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camping, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylinehorizon/pseuds/skylinehorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel are on a camping trip. Castiel is feeling a little cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like magnets we attract

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt 'Heat', for clotpoleofthelord's weekly 'SPN Prompt Thing' challenge over on tumblr.

Dean's grinning as he cups his hand beneath the melting marshmallow, bringing it up to his mouth. It's gooey and half-melted over the stick, but Dean guarantees it's the perfect, just-right level of cooked. 

Cas prefers to burn his, just a little. To blacken the outside and pop it in his mouth while still hot, having to keep his mouth open while he chews to breathe some relief from its heat. 

They've both retired from that now, the open bag of marshmallows somewhere in the darkness. They're huddled together in front of the fire, the last streaks of sunset disappearing from the sky. 

Cas scoots closer along the cool ground, grass tickling the bare skin of his ankles. He shivers, leaning closer to the fire. Dean's arms brush against his, and there's a flare of warmth even through their layers of clothing. 

"You cold?" Dean asks. He says it quietly, as if anything above hushed tones will disturb the peace of the woodland that circles them.  

"No," Cas lies. Dean is staring at him, the flames playing across his face, painting shadows and warmth, flickers of light in his eyes. Cas wishes he could capture this - everything about it, the sight of Dean, the smell of autumn in the air, of the burning fire, the heat of Dean pressed up close beside him and the contrast of the cool chill of the wind. If he could bottle the butterflies in his stomach, the buzz in his fingers that itch to reach out and  _touch._ If he could freeze them, just how they are, and keep the memento with him at all times to never forget this  _feeling_. 

Dean smiles then, slow and sure, and says, "Liar." 

Before Cas has a chance to protest, Dean is peeling off his hoody and dropping it in Cas' lap. His fingers are in it before he can process what he's doing, betraying the protest that's on the tip of his tongue. The material is still warm, and Dean feels even hotter beside him, their bare arms brushing together. 

Cas almost doesn't want to put it on, but there are goosebumps across his flesh, and Dean's smiling softly at him. It's hard to say no to that. 

The sleeves fall just a little past his hands, and he sucks in a deep breath, assaulted by the smell of campfire, marshmallows and something all-together  _Dean._

"Thank you," he says, turning to Dean with a smile. Dean smiles gently back at him, and gives a little shrug; it's nothing. Dean leans against him then, but doesn't say anything as they stare into the fire, flames licking their away around wood they collected when they first arrived. 

Against the ground, Dean's fingers find his, and Cas' breath hitches. Dean's thumb is drawing slow circles over the back of his hand, like coded messages that Cas so badly wants to interpret. He turns his hand over and their palms press together, fingers slipping together like clockwork, two easy corresponding pieces. 

He turns to face Dean, and Dean's watching him with that same gentle smile, the fire still painting him something etheral and otherwordly. Dean leans forward, and like a script, they're meeting in the middle, playing out the actionlines as if they're writing it themselves. In a way, Cas supposes they are. 

Cas' other hand finds the warmth of Dean's neck, and Dean's threads through Cas' hair, holding the back of his head still as Dean's tongue traces slow and sure over Cas' bottom lip. Cas opens up for him, moving his hand from Dean's neck to the front of his t-shirt to pull him forward. It's a little too fast, and their teeth clink together, Dean pulling back with a slight laugh.

"Easy, Casanova. You don't have to rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Cas answers with a kiss, pulling him towards him again, and against his mouth, whispers, "Neither am I."  

_fin._


End file.
